


The Lyrics I Wrote For You

by Languid_Victorian_Poetess



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Original Work
Genre: Complicated Relationships, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Grief/Mourning, M/M, Multi, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Platonic Relationships, Random Song Challenge, Song Lyrics, anyway i continue to be a victorian in song form, i hope there's a lot of angst i have a lot of angsty titled songs in here so fingers crossed, it's still in progress and i haven't listened to like half the songs, so i really don't know what's going to get posted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-16
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-18 16:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,597
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29492484
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Languid_Victorian_Poetess/pseuds/Languid_Victorian_Poetess
Summary: Part 2 of a song fic challenge. It's a mix of canon and AUs from my Dungeons and Dragons game across a lot of characters and their relationships. It has a little bit of everything.
Relationships: Original Character/Original Character/Original Character, Original Female Character(s)/Original Female Character(s), Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s), Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Kudos: 4





	1. Into The Storm by Banners - Caprice/Irie

**Author's Note:**

> So I'm aware that I never finished posting the original to this one... however I will! It's almost done! You don't need to read Sing Me A Song to read this fic, they're all like short one-shots based off of songs that my players have sent me. I'll be uploading the chapters as I write them, so I'll probably be adding some tags too! I'm also going to add a tiny bit of context for these scenes as we go.
> 
> This first chapter is a canon scene. The Party has decided that 2 of them will have sex with a demon and 2 of them will go into the demon's darkness to find the magical item that they need for their quest. Caprice and Irie are the ones chosen to go into the darkness, so they're having a moment about it.
> 
> Anyway, please enjoy!

They stand on the edge of the abyss. In a way, the darkness stares back, or at least, that’s what it feels like. The shadows are a creature of their own, they ebb and flow like a tide, they prowl and lurk and wait hungrily. And Irie and Caprice are their next victims.

The others wait behind them with bated breath, though they aren’t the ones that are about to sacrifice their sanity **_(_ ** or more likely, their lives **_)_ **. Irie squares her shoulders, thinks of the goodbyes that had fallen from her lips, and takes what should be the last step into whatever waits for her in the darkness. 

“Wait, Irie,” Caprice says quietly and puts a hand on her arm. Is this the last time she’ll hear his voice? Is this the last time that he’ll ever say her name? She wants to treasure it, this kernel of a moment. Maybe that’s why she stops and turns to face him, leaving the encroaching shadows behind her for just a moment.

“We’ll walk in there together,” Irie replies. It’s the first time that she’s ever tried to fill the silence that he’s let linger. She’s never been uncomfortable with quiet before, but this time it seems to seep into the air between them dangerously. 

“Yes,” he says. He lets go of her arm and signs something quickly, too quickly for her to catch. The words aren’t ones he’s taught her and her brows furrow, but she doesn’t have enough knowledge to even hazard a guess. 

“What is it?” The question is supposed to come out irritated at the distraction, but it falls from her lips softly. “Look, Caprice, if you have something to say, just say it now-”

“Why did you volunteer to come with me?” He asks and the question hurts as much as his level gaze. His eyes are a green forest she could get lost in. Is this the last time she’ll feel their gentle warmth?

And as much as she doesn’t want to answer, the fact is that it seems wrong to leave him wondering when they both might not walk away from this. She gathers her strength and pulls away to lower her hood. Here they stand face to face and for the first time, real fear eats away at her. Irie sucks in a breath and forces the words out. “Because as much as I need to protect them, I need to protect you too. And right now, they're not the ones who need me.”

“Irie,” her name is a whisper, cushioned against the oppressive emptiness of their shared demons. She likes the way it fades from his lips. 

“Yes?” Irie says. She’s aware of how close they’re standing and slowly, he drops his forehead to hers. She closes her eyes and feels him breathe with her. The eyes on their backs are a thousand years away. In this stolen moment, she’s at peace.

He’s quiet and she can almost hear all of the words they’re not saying. His hand brushes hers, but he doesn’t take her hand, at least not yet. He swallows and this feels like the reversal of that night on the roof when it was Irie who was certain that things would end that night. “You’ll… you’ll walk with me?”

“Yes.” 

He interlaces their fingers at that and they slowly break apart to face all of the promises they had made together. This time he steps with her and they’re at the beginning of what could be the end. “Tell me that you won’t let go,” Caprice murmurs. She wants to enfold his fear like their tangled fingers. 

“Caprice Atlantic, I will not let go.” **_(_** _Nothing could ever make me let go_. **_)_**

He pauses and lifts her hand to his mouth, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, so at odds with her callouses and broken nails. He signs something again that she doesn’t quite catch and before she can ask, he speaks with his lips still grazing her hand. “If your strength is falling down, I'll be right beside you now.”

“I know.” She gives his fingers a hard squeeze. “We’ll leave here together, I promise.”

With her first **_(_ ** and perhaps her last **_)_ ** promise to him still fresh against her lips, Irie turns and leads him into the darkness, hoping beyond hope that they’re enough for the world and maybe even each other.


	2. Dancing With Your Ghost by Sasha Sloan - Dorian/Sienna

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After seeing the ghost of an old flame, Dorian isn't so ready to move on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will finish posting Sing Me A Song, I really will do it. I'll try and upload another chapter tonight, I really will. Okay, other than me commiserating over my slow posting, a short background for this scene!
> 
> It's canon. The party took Dorian Gray to an old castle and they met one of his old flames who he had an affair with. She'd been murdered by her other and ex-fiancé. At the end, she does move on a la Emily in The Corpse Bride film, but Dorian is still obviously left behind.
> 
> I'm really happy with how this turned out, so I hope you all enjoy!

He hadn’t thought about her in years and now it seemed like her spirit wouldn’t leave him be. Ironic considering the circumstances and all that. After all these years, she was finally at peace and yet, he had never felt more haunted by her.

How strange to be chased by a memory that had never bothered him before. And yet, each scrap of billowing fabric made him turn as though he’d see white lace and wedding regalia. The shriek of a storm brought to mind her ghostly wail, a weak cup of tea reminded him of her eyes. When he slept, she came to him draped in the velvet dress he’d given her on her birthday.  **_(_ ** Was the dress still in the castle, rotting among the dead? Tattered and decayed? Covered in handprints like her ghostly neck?  **_)_ **

Dorian lifted the bottle of wine to his lips and took a long sip. He roamed the halls of his mansion, half a phantom himself, unable to stop pursuing every shadow and whisper as if it were Sienna herself and he might be able to change the past. If only. She was the first on a long list of if onlys. Immortality had the bad habit to breed regrets and the funny thing about burying those was that they had a way of coming back to life. If only he hadn’t gone to the castle. If only he hadn’t called out to her. If only he hadn’t loved her, once upon a time.

“Oh, Sienna, Sienna,” he sighed. The words echoed off of the luxury and turned into a moan. Here he was, the great Dorian Gray, reduced to haunting his own mansion because of a dead bride.  **_(_ ** But no amount of alcohol could erase how beautiful she’d looked in that wedding dress, brown locks twisted up high, the smile when she’d wished him goodbye, the spark of something more in her dead eyes.  **_)_ ** And to think, here he owned what was practically a museum of the past, but without a hint of his own, save for the attic. Until now, there’d been nothing to regret. How he wished for her portrait or one of those letters written in her looping hand. He’d give anything to see where she’d pressed too hard on her ‘i’s again or the furrow of her brow when he vexed her.

He’d made his way to the ballroom without realizing it. The moonlight sliced the curtains and offered the illusion of something white. There were no wilting flowers and not a note of music. This wasn’t the first time he’d found himself here in recent days.

For what felt like the hundredth time, Dorian crossed the room and set the needle to the phonograph. The song built slowly. He chugged some wine and waltzed through the bare hall. “You see, my dear Sienna,” he began. When he blinked, her dress twirled out behind her. The bottle was heavy in his arms. She smiled and what he would have given to capture it in a portrait. “I put the record on, wait ‘til I hear our song.”

She spun and the shoulder of her dress slipped, brown locks tumbling down her back, her enigmatic smile back on her lips. **_(_** _I long to be the puzzle you can never solve_ , she’d told him once. At the time, he had known how her pieces fit and it was only now that she’d fulfilled that dream. **_)_** He reached for her and the bottle shattered at his feet. What was left of Sienna evaporated into empty air. Dorian laughed and sank to the floor, running a hand through his hair. The music played on.

“Oh, lovely Sienna, how much you would have enjoyed this. You would have laughed, knowing that every night, I’m dancing with your ghost.” But if she heard, she didn’t answer, and Dorian was left listening to the needle scratch the cylinder as their song faded into nothing at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always!


	3. Strawberry Mentos by Leanna Firestone - Eliza/Nellie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eliza and Nellie find a way to pass the time while waiting for Arabella to get out of football practice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I will finish Sing Me A Song, but not tonight because I sure am tired. I wrote this up quickly as a present for Nellie's player because she likes Critical Role and I'm here to try and help her summon her lesbians. Or, if that fails, she can have other lesbians to tide her over until next week. 
> 
> In other brief news, these chapters are supposed to be short and they are, but they're almost all longer about those from Sing Me A Song. I'm still trying to practice short things, but I think my Victorian need for lengthy descriptions and minor scene setting has gotten the better of me. I would like to say I'll fix it as we go on, but I can make 0 promises.
> 
> Anyway, no context for this chapter! Other than it's a college AU! I have notes for it, but they're unimportant. I hope you enjoy some soft lesbians and if you're looking for a sugary song, I highly recommend this one.

A lot of people liked to ask how Eliza’s relationship worked. It wasn’t entirely surprising, all things considered, if annoying. After all, she did have two girlfriends and plenty of people struggled to find one. So they liked to ask who her favorite was  **_(_ ** the answer was she loved them equally  **_)_ ** . When that failed, it became who she liked to spend the most time with and the answer to that was also both. Sometimes the persistent ones asked about what she did with her girlfriends  **_(_ ** usually incredulously  **_)_ ** and here was finally a question she liked to answer.

While she and Arabella had plenty of their own moments and habits, her favorite time with Nellie was spent on the quad every Tuesday and Thursday afternoon while they waited for Arabella to get out of practice. Half the time, they forgot the picnic blanket and instead splayed out in the grass, a pair of earbuds tying them together, their hands intertwined more often than not. Sometimes Eliza remembered a book and Nellie brought along her homework, but usually they watched the clouds roll by and Eliza found something new to talk about while Nellie listened and played with her hair.

Those days always reminded her of summer  **_(_ ** though half the time it wasn’t warm out at all  **_)_ ** and lip gloss and the kind of thing you’d see in a college movie. It was a little campy, but it was also perfect.

“Nell,” Eliza said on one particular occasion. They’d been sharing strawberries covered in sugar and a little packet of Nerds that they’d found hidden in the back of the cabinet.  **_(_ ** They’d probably expired, but that didn’t matter much.  **_)_ ** The clouds drifted by lazily and Eliza rolled over so that the grass stains would ruin both sides of her outfit. And also to see her girlfriend, that too. The wire got tangled and there was a brief intermission as they had to stop and readjust the headphones. “You should know something.”

“Okay?” Nellie said and smiled that careful smile. But her eyes were soft and sweet and warm like melted chocolate. Eliza had practically gotten a sweet tooth by staring at them all the time.

“You should know,” Eliza said and stopped to pop another strawberry triangle into her mouth. Sugar slid from her lips and coated the both of them. Thank goodness they were on the quad, they had made quite the dessert-y mess. “I’m so helplessly sugar-high on you.”

A pop song’s melody rose in her ears as she leaned in to kiss her girlfriend, momentarily preventing Nellie from replying. She could taste Nellie’s favorite peach lip gloss  **_(_ ** and maybe it was her favorite too  **_)_ ** , mixed with a hint of strawberries and sugar. Eliza moved to cup Nellie’s cheek and instead accidentally ripped the headphones out of both of their ears again. They broke apart in a fit of giggles, Nellie shaking her head affectionately as she wiped off the earbuds yet again. There was a reason they were always buying another pair.

“You’re so sweet that my teeth are gonna fall out,” Nellie said and rolled her eyes. But she leaned in, pushed some of Eliza’s hair out of the way, and situated the earbud so she could hear the upbeat pop song play on. 

“Perfect,” Eliza replied and flushed pink. “Though, I have to say that I’d be more likely to give you a cavity first, but-”

“Shh.” And then Nellie interrupted her with another peach-and-strawberry kiss, which was more than enough to satisfy her craving while they waited for Arabella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! There may or may not be a chapter tomorrow, we'll see how it goes, but fingers crossed I get around to another one!


	4. Give Me Your Attention by Candelion - Caprice/Irie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Left alone after a harrowing experience, Caprice has to cling to the hope that Irie will wake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, first of all, I need it documented that I had absolutely not intention of writing another Cap/Irie chapter so soon. But we had game last night and then Caprice hijacked my brain so here we are, I'm sorry. For those that are unaware, I write the chapters of this fic as the mood strikes me, whether that's in regards to a certain song or pairing and I suppose that that's how I have to upload the fic too. I did finish another chapter, but that has to wait until the end for Reasons. Okay, anyway.
> 
> Some small context: after venturing into the demon darkness (from the first chapter of this fic), Irie comes out close to death. The darkness drained away what made them strongest, so they had to stay behind while the rest of the d&d party headed off to El Dorado because of the approaching timeline of the potential end of the world. They're also in a camp of demon hunters who are Irie's friends. I think that's all of the important things.
> 
> Please enjoy! And if you're one of my players reading this, this is literally your faults and I'm mad Irie isn't dead.

There was something about watching her breathe in the bed beside his that made Caprice acutely aware of how close they’d come to dying. He couldn’t shake the feeling of her waning strength slumped against him, strong and capable Irie reduced to bones. He was grateful for being unable to see the wings on her back  **_(_ ** if she had lost those too, after so many years, his heart couldn’t bear it.  **_)_ ** He could live without his voice, but Irie without her wings felt…  _ impossible _ . Unfathomable. 

Her friends came and went, in addition to a few stray eyes that stopped to stare at the legendary demon hunter. There was Al who would sit at her bedside and tell stories of young Irie and the way her heart had burned for those that needed her. Zaya who had come in just to say goodbye. Jackson who sometimes stood at the end of her bed when he thought Caprice was asleep and crooned a soft tune. And sweet Ras who left little sketches on her bedside table with fresh flowers.  **_(_ ** Would they stop coming one day? Would they be too late?  **_)_ **

The others had been gone so long, or at least it felt like an eternity trapped in this bed, watching this woman, who he had to admit that he loved with his entire being, waste away. They had to coax broth into her body and drip water onto her lips for her to drink.  Looking , staring at her day in and day out, he thought that if she had been even an ounce weaker, she would be dead. Maybe it was her Fae blood keeping her alive, just as his siren blood had done the same for him.

But as slow as the healing process was, he was getting better. Within a couple of weeks, Caprice could get out of bed, propped up against the wall to shamble forward in a walk  **_(_ ** despite the lengthy protests of the doctors  **_)_ ** . In another week, a semblance of his voice came back in the vague notion of a hum.

And as the first lackluster note faded from the quiet room, Irie shifted for the first time since that dreadful day. He expected nothing from it, maybe an accidental movement that proved that she was still fighting, though her color had improved over the weeks  **_(_ ** her breathing less shallow and what he wouldn’t give to hear her heart beat  **_)_ ** . Instead, Irie did the unthinkable. She opened her eyes.

Had they grown more blue or was that his imagination? Blue and searching the room, muscles suddenly trembling as she desperately tried to move and sit up, though he shook his head vigorously as though that would stop her. He turned to get help, being unable to call out for aid, but the sound of her voice made him pause. “Caprice.”

He faced her and tears sat against his lower lashes. His body shook with relief and he had to reach out and hold tight to the edge of the table to keep from falling. Her lips twisted in a hard frown and yes, she looked like a mess with her unkempt hair and the dark circles under her eyes, but she was the most beautiful woman in the world. An angelic sight considering the endless days he feared that he might never see her awake and alive. It took everything in his power not to fall to his knees. With effort, he still clung fast to the table.

“Are you alright?” There was a rough burr in her throat, her voice unused and scratchy. “Caprice, what’s wrong? Where are the others?”

He shook his head sharply and rubbed at his throat. Recognition flickered across her features, maybe a hint of pity too. A hand scratched at her shoulder blades, though if she detected something wrong with her wings, she failed to either share or show it. Rather than risk collapsing, Caprice stumbled to his bed and sat on the lip across from her before he signed back a reply.

“Wait,” Irie said and held up a hand. “Too fast.”

He tried again, and moved slower, quietly hoping that she understood at least some of the message.

“Almost a month?” Irie pressed. Something like anger or maybe hatred at her own weakness bit into her voice. Her mouth twisted again in a harder frown, brows furrowed, one hand clenching the sheet. “And they’re gone? To El Dorado?”

Caprice nodded. Irie smacked the flat on her palm against the bed, though the blow had little force and only made a muffled sound. “Damn it all.”

“I’m sorry,” he signed to her. 

The ex-Fae only shook her head. “It’s not your fault, Cap. I know you would have gone with them but…” She didn’t have to finish, she’d seen his body shake and the matching frailness of his figure. She must have known that this time, there was no magical cure to restore either of them. “ _ Damn it all _ . They’re going to get themselves killed and-and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

The frustration was thick in her voice, though despite everything, she didn’t cry. Just scrubbed a hand over her face and tried to battle her way off the bed again. “We have to go after them. I know we’re behind, but we have to try.” There was no time for Caprice to move to help before she was already trying with a breed of desperation to get up. Irie didn’t even manage to sit up before collapsing against the lumpy pillows. Pain flitted across her features, the ripples deep in her blue eyes like echoes down an endless well. 

“Don’t.” Caprice replied, though she had already given up.

“Don’t look at me like that. I can’t just lay here and do nothing. They could die. Fuck, they  _ will  _ die. Blackwood’s a good shot, but she’s not enough.”

Caprice had nothing to offer. Even with his voice, there were no words that might bring either of them comfort. The stakes were so high. Perhaps that made the moment worse, Irie looking so small on the bed. It was the first time the thought had ever crossed his mind, the first time he was seeing her as anything but powerful and fierce. God, she looked vulnerable, as vulnerable and weak as he felt. The emotion felt strung between them, connecting them in a way that was incommunicable. 

When she met his eyes again, desolate and broken and lost, he began to wonder which was worse, fearing that she’d die with him helpless and only a bed away or having to watch her fight for something that was already lost. It would have been better if she had woken up alone. At least then she’d have the comfort of his vow, that he would do anything to protect the party on her behalf. Not for the first time, the siren began to regret letting her take one step down the path that they had tread together.

The silence stretched on and just as she looked away again, Caprice summoned his courage and gestured slowly  **_(_ ** though he couldn’t explain why, even to himself  **_)_ ** .  _ Can I come close? _

Irie hesitated and he waited patiently for her to set their course. There was some part of him that was certain she’d refuse. It was one thing to feel vulnerable, it was another to let someone in to see it. To accept meant taking down the walls that she’d only ever built stronger and higher to keep him out.

But at last, Irie nodded. Carefully, he crossed the small space to her side and eased himself onto the edge of her bed. His weight dipped the mattress. She didn’t shift to give him more space, though Caprice suspected that it was a lack of strength more than a lack of desire to move over or fear of impropriety. 

He lifted a hand, maybe initially to touch her, and instead pulled a scrap of paper and a spare pen, left behind by Ras, from the bedside table. A tear splashed the page as he scrawled out the message. If she noticed, she neither commented nor tried to wipe it away. There was some relief in that, which made it possible for Caprice to give her the note in an unsteady grip.  _ I thought I lost you _ .

She was silent, save for the crinkle of paper as her thumb brushed the words. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d smeared the ink or if the action was even purposeful. When she met his gaze, the telltale burn of her eyes made him look away and settle on his hands waiting idly in his lap. This was the point that she would call him foolish or insist that now of all times she couldn’t risk thinking about him or- 

“I promised you that I wouldn’t let go,” Irie said firmly. There was strength in her words if nothing else. “I meant it.”

The pen fell to the side and clattered to the floor. He hesitated before looking back up and when he did, all he could see was the hard determination on her face. The same look of fierce protectiveness that she would only show to those she deemed deserving. Caprice leaned in slowly, a hand raised to touch her, though he paused before they made contact. It wasn’t until she offered a nearly imperceptible nod that his fingers grazed her cheek. The relief of her warm skin, so full of life, made everything possible. There was the desperate desire to speak, even if it broke the moment, leaving him minorly grateful that he couldn’t. Her eyes remained tied to his, blue meeting green, deep ice and evergreens. They didn’t move, the barest touch of skin, a whisper of it after so long apart and more time spent in the darkness. “Help me up,” Irie said quietly.

He placed a hand between her shoulders and eased her into a sitting position. Even with his help, it was a struggle, her body protesting the likely inadvisable motion. And when it was over, they were still too close. It had taken three weeks for them to be exactly where they started. On the brink of something more and nothing at all.  _ Irie, I think I’m- _

The thought or the words or the gestures, whatever it was didn’t finish. It was left unwritten. She kissed him.

Her lips were chapped and she had to grip his forearm to stay upright. He leaned in to meet her, the angle awkward from him seated sideways on the bed. None of that seemed to matter. All he could feel was the roughness of her skin as his free hand cupped her cheek. She held him tighter and sank into the kiss and the moment. They shared breaths, the synchronous beat of two hearts. And as he kept her close, there was a resounding pang of hope that echoed in the hollow of his bones and found a place to settle in his chest. She was alive and they were together.

The kiss itself was like his first gulp of water after half a lifetime breathing in air. It was the first song he’d been able to sing in years, the first wave breaking against his skin. She was every melody and lyric, every hard current that he’d learned to swim with instead of against. She did not melt into him, not that he had ever once considered that she might, but instead rose to meet him. 

He could taste everything they weren’t saying. They shared their vulnerability and fear, shouldering the burden, moving past it to something more. Perhaps it helped that there was no burn of desperation this time, no distraction that he was trying to cause, no near death experience, it was just them. It felt unencumbered. It felt real.

They broke apart only when necessary, foreheads still touching, noses brushing, his hand on her cheek, she still held tight to his arm. “I’ve owed you that for a long time.” Irie said softly and he smiled. She retained a serious expression but something had thawed in her eyes and there was a hint of something indefinable in her voice that made him dream of more. “I should have told you this before, but I suppose almost dying puts things into perspective. You’re important to me, Caprice.”

Gods, what he wouldn’t have given to speak, to finally be able to say everything that had been on his mind for months. But there was no time to even attempt to reach for the paper and pen again. His reply was halted by the opening of the door. “She’s awake!” Someone called and Irie pulled away. 

All that he wanted to tell her slipped through the moment of quiet before the room was filled with the bustle of renewed hope and desperate excitement at her recovery. Caprice was exiled back to his own bed. There was no time to protest or ask for another moment alone. He could only hope that she’d be able to read the message in every stray glance, every almost uttered word from his lips.  _ Irie, you’re my everything. _ But for now, that too was left unsaid beside the journey that stretched before them unfinished.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I'm out of Caprice/Irie songs, so hopefully I'll switch over to another pairing. I have some very interesting ones (and AUs) lined up. Also, I know these are supposed to be short and this chapter was not, fingers crossed I actually go back to short chapters but who knows! They possess me, I have no choice.
> 
> Thank you for reading as always!


	5. Where Do You Run by The Score - Jez/Leo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jez and Leo hold a late night conversation about the past and the future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I again meant to write a non-shippy chapter but fun fact! That didn't happen! Look, I am not in control of these characters, they possess me and then whatever comes out is what gets posted. I do have a platonic chapter queued up, I think it'll be a fun one, but we'll see what happens. I also recognize that I said these will be short and they're? Not all that short. Last week especially and even this week strays on a little long, so I will be trying to fix that, fingers crossed. Any delay in me uploading/writing is just me being busy.
> 
> Okay, context time! So this is a Clone Wars AU, Jez takes the place of Obi Wan, Markus is Satine, Leo is one of Satine's guards, and Anakin is Leonora. I think those are all of the characters mentioned in this particular fic, but obviously the AU is more expansive than this. The only thing I can say timeline wise is it's probably soon after the first Satine/Obi Wan encounter in Season 2. But like rekindle the relationship. Okay anyway lol
> 
> Please enjoy! I have rambled on for long enough!

While this was hardly the first rule of the Jedi Council that Jezabel had broken, admittedly, it was the worst. After all, it wasn’t like some of the other occasions where she cleverly bent or circumvented regulation, she had taken the rules and snapped them. In half. Well, that was probably being generous, she had taken the rule and essentially pulverized it. Thankfully not in public, but if the Jedi Council could see her now… they’d almost certainly strip her of everything.  **_(_ ** Though she was already naked, so there probably wasn’t much left to strip, if she was being honest.  **_)_ **

As if on cue, her bedmate rolled over and his eyes flickered open blearily to catch sight of her staring up at the ceiling. “Wha’ time’s it?” He mumbled and tried to wipe the sleep from his eyes.

Jezabel watched him out of the corner of her eyes and failed to suppress a deep sigh. “No idea, late. It’s still dark out. You should go back to sleep, Leo.”

“Jez… have ya been awake the whole time?” There was that note of concern, it gave him a gentler complexion, half a ghost, half a figament. Or maybe that was the poor lighting. Jez had no choice but to shift and face her lover. His green eyes reminded her of better worlds and better times.

“Maybe,” she replied.

“Are ya okay? Do ya sense somethin’?”

“No, no, nothing like that. I’m just… I’m thinking.”

“ ‘Bout?”

“If we’d actually run away all those years ago...” She trailed off and he stretched out a hand to brush a few idle strands of hair out of her eyes. It was an old conversation, one they’d both raise and withdraw. It was a beautiful  _ what if _ . But it wasn’t like Leo would ever abandon Markus. Nor could Jez be sure that leaving the Jedi just to earn peace was the right choice. Instead, the words seemed a kind of talisman of a past and a future they had let slip by quietly into the night.  **_(_ ** Maybe in another universe they had run off together and had found the ending they liked to dream about.  **_)_ **

“Well, ya know, every time I run, I run to ya.” Leo answered with a soft smile. There was just enough good humor in his expression to almost lure a chuckle out of her.

“That’s not a smart decision. Or a safe one.” She nearly rolled back to face the ceiling, but he captured her hand and pressed a kiss to her fingers. The feel of his lips made her suck in a quick breath and Jez knew she’d relent to his touch. She thought that maybe Leo knew it too.

“Eh, maybe not, but it’s the decision I made.” Another kiss, this one to the inside of her wrist where her pulse beat. There was something vulnerable in that she didn’t pull away and let him bestow a languishing kiss to her exposed skin. But there was always something vulnerable in getting into bed with him.

“Foolish as ever,” Jez said and it was supposed to be light and teasing. It came out tender  **_(_ ** disgustingly so **_)_ ** and she brushed a hand idly over his cheek. It settled there and cupped his face. Something unspoken and unbroken unspooled between them. “You should really be more careful.”

“Mmm, says the reckless Jedi.” He leaned into her palm. Jez wanted to capture him here in this moment. Their moment. “Ya know ya can let me in, right?”

That made her flinch and withdraw as her memory swirled and clogged the bed. All at once their sanctuary was disrupted and there was the immediate instinct to flee.  **_(_ ** Trusting him meant loving him and that was already such a near thing, could she tip the scales? Could she betray all she had left? Could she trust that someone else wouldn’t push the blade into her back?  **_)_ ** Maybe she intended to leave, but she only got as far as sitting up. A glimpse of his wide eyes froze her in place and all she could remember were those desperate nights on the run, never quite knowing what each moment, let alone each day, would bring.

He seemed to sense her hesitation and opened his arms as he spoke. “Just let me in, I’ll help you in this world.” They both knew what she would choose. They had a bad habit of rehashing old conversations, but old doubts tended to creep in. He would never leave his Duke’s side. She would never leave the Jedi. They would never leave each other. It was complicated.

Jezabel curled up in his embrace with a sigh. He folded his arms around her tightly, as if that would keep the rest of the world away. Restlessly, she traced gibberish on his bare chest. 

Leo pressed a long kiss to the top of her head. “So, what’s botherin’ ya?” 

She couldn’t bring herself to answer right away, though the fears had been eating at her for some time. The war made these encounters harder and it seemed wrong to spoil their time together any further. Though judging by the fact that Leo kept shifting awkwardly beneath her, it seemed that neither of them would get any rest until she at least tried to say something. “I’m just worried. I don’t want to see anything happen to Mandalore.”  _ I don’t want to see anything happen to you _ . “I understand not wanting to be involved in the war, trust me, I do. It’s only that I don’t want to see a day when Mandalore can’t protect herself and doesn’t have any aid.”

“Mark knows what he’s doin’.” Leo replied automatically. It was the response she’d expected. Regardless of his own opinion, Leo would never betray his best friend, even to her. The Duke had enough enemies, she had seen that herself, and Leo’s loyalty ran deeper than his doubt.

“I know, I know he does. It’s just that I’ve seen what this war does to neutral planets and I couldn’t bear to see that happen here.” Her mind drifted to burning forests, the smell of smoking metal, blaster fire in the air, dust in her mouth. She unconsciously wrote the names of the dead against his skin as though to imprint them somewhere other than the back of her mind.

“It won’t. We’ve got this incredible Jedi Master protectin’ us and everythin’.” His joke didn’t lighten the mood, and her smile for his benefit was weak. 

“For as long as I can.” It was supposed to sound more sincere and came out defeated. As much as she’d like to stay and protect Leo and his Duke day in and day out, there was a war to fight and Mandalore had firmly declared itself as uninvolved. Though, this was just the latest factor keeping them apart. “I wish I didn’t leave tomorrow.”

“Do ya know where ya’ll be stationed next?”

“Somewhere in the Outer Rim. The Separatists have been gaining a foothold. Leonora and I will be sent out probably right after I return to the Temple.”

“An’ ya’ll be careful?” The serious note echoed and she could almost feel his chest cave under the weight. Maybe there were other ways of protecting him.

“What? Don’t want us to match?” Jez teased and interlaced her human fingers with his metal ones. It did the trick and when she twisted to see his expression, she caught sight of a smile.

“Nah, I don’t want ya to cut in on my metal arm jokes.”

“You’re safe from those, don’t worry.” She paused and in the space, offered up a kiss. It was supposed to be teasing as she nipped at his lower lip and somehow ended as sweetly as a confession. When she pulled away and met his gaze, there seemed to be a refraction of something like love in those green depths.“I should get going.”

He didn’t bat an eye, this part always felt rehearsed, and yet no less genuine. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, maybe it was the beat of her heart. “Can’t you stay till dawn?”

She hesitated, though they both knew the outcome as well as they knew each other. “...Just this once.” Jez replied. Once had passed a long time ago. Maybe one day she’d have a better answer for them both.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading as always! I'm hoping to maybe start a new project with my good friend that's actual fan fiction, so hopefully you'll see that soon! Fingers crossed though, obviously I am slow. Anyway, you're all wonderful <3


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